#i kind of veered off topic a little. sorry

[uber-gender]

why is "chronosion" or whatever on thin ice? i view it as similar to how system members can have different ages from the body + singlets who are permanently age reg/progressed (or ageless or whatever else). is it the association/branching off of "transage" (and the association of "transage" with pedo/4chan crap or the community it harvested and being buddy-buddy with pedos and all that crap) that makes it uncomfortable? or something else im missing? (i assume its not the experience itself because you guys are 8-10 and 16-ageless but i might be wrong because i have bad theory of mind)

yeah, it's the connection between chronosian and "transage" and how people often use them interchangeably. the creator of chronosian is opposed to "transage" and other "transx/transid" identities, but we still suggest checking the op tags and blog when reblogging chronosian identities because mogai tumblr is infamously bad at research and respect.

additionally, at least to me (rev), the concept of "identifying as a different age than the body" in general is very unsettling when used outside of specific plural settings. the creator of chronosian explains in this post that neurodivergent people may identify as chronosian because of how we mature differently, and while they do provide disclaimers in an attempt to fend off ableists, I believe that the association is still potentially dangerous. the creation of microlabels for different expressions of chronosian identity also seems to me like a trivialization of the material reality of age. as a Claudia, I find it helpful to sometimes identify as an 8-10 year old, since my emotions and personality will never fully mature. however, I also identify as a 26 year old who is fully capable of harming others as an adult and is able to consent to sex with other adults. I think it is important even as a syskid or a regressor to keep a solid grasp on your real physical age, both for the safety and comfort of others and for your own self-concept.

HOWEVER, I do think that the basic terminology of "chronosian" is helpful, and would identify as it. also, ETMK is not as serious as I am about this and does not have any criticism of chronosian other than finding the word itself "sort of dorky". so that's what we mean by "on thin ice".

tl;dr, we are overall ok with chronosian as long as it is divorced from "transage", but one of us has some friendly criticism about it.

[sleepiexx]

Valeria Garza x fem reader. Reader and Valeria were once lovers until one day she disappeared and a few years later on a mission to capture El Sin Nombre the reader finds out what she has been doing all this time.

Back When I Loved You

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.2

Note: so sorry this took like for-fucking-ever, I’ve been working so fucking much I never write anymore 😭😭 I’m so glad I got this done, I needed to write this. Also, I switched to y/n instead of (Y/N) bc I did a survey and it said most ppl prefer y/n, tell me if u think that’s dumb

Summary: It’s been years since y/n had been stationed in Las Almas, returning opens some old wounds she hadn’t realized never healed.

Warnings: death mention (no one actually dies), soap is a slut, uhhh not much else rlly

Word Count: 3345

Quite a peculiar phenomenon, “the one that got away.” The idea of an old flame that was never allowed to fully ignite and crackle into something beautiful, never quite coming to fruition. The kind of love that leaves you wondering what could have been had circumstances been different, desperately yearning for even the slightest taste of something more.

The topic came up one day as the task force sat around at a bar drinking, waiting for the assignment that they would inevitably have the next day. It started as Gaz recounted the story of how he met a girl before graduation and fell madly for her. Their story ends there with the fact that the moment Gaz realized how he had felt for her, he was being shipped off to boot camp, never to see his lost love ever again. He spoke of how deeply he regretted not pursuing a relationship with her, and how every time he goes home to visit his mother, a tiny part of him hopes to see her again.

Soap went next. Lord knows the man had many, many regrets and many stories regarding his love life, yet one took president in his mind. “She had the softest skin,” he had said, story veering off the main point and getting caught up on the details as it had nearly a million times, once about her hair, three times about her eyes, and now about how “baby soft” her skin was. Eventually— with a little pushing from the others— he told the full story, how he was on vacation, a rarity for him, and how he’d hit it off with this woman. Usually with his one night stands, it was purely sexual, no emotional connection whatsoever. Yet this time, Soap had found himself enchanted. After what he described as a “magical” night, she’d disappeared, and he never got the chance to give her his number.

“What about you, old timer, I’m sure you’ve got an old flame who escaped ya’,” Soap beamed, turning the conversation towards Price who smiled and nodded fondly to himself.

“She was-“ he sighed, “well, she was something.” No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the smile that creeped up his cheeks as he told the story. A kind lover, she was. Made him breakfast in the mornings, listened as he complained about work— he was just a Lieutenant back then, but she listened. And she was always there. Until she wasn’t. The Captain’s story ever so slowly changed from happily reminiscing and took on a much more somber tone as Price recounted the fighting that led up to his break up with the woman. He had been coming up on the end of his contract with the British Army and she had wanted him to stay with her, start a family, but Price had been in the military for a long time. He had no clue what life would even be like outside of the Army. And so he reenlisted. He spoke about how deeply he regretted that, how there were nights that he woke up and just imagined how his life could have panned out had he stayed with her. Would he be awoken by their kids pouncing up and down on him, rather than the ever-present nightmares he gets as his current wake up call? He would never know, and that would haunt him to this day.

Price took a big swig of whiskey at the melancholy thought, turning the attention toward y/n, “What about you, kid? You’re still young, hopefully no sad stories yet?”

Y/n shook her head, “I don’t see it as sad, more so I see it as I’m happy I got that experience. Yeah I’m upset that it never went anywhere but I’m glad that it happened period.” She smiled, happy with her answer but the others stared on with shocked looks. “What?” She asked.

Soap’s eyes were wide, “Well you can’t just say all o’ that and then just not tell us the story.” He shook his head, flabbergasted, “We all told you, save for Ghost but the man’s already very private, so now it’s your turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “yeah, yeah,” she took a sip of her drink, a little liquid courage to help loosen the story out of herself, “I was stationed in Mexico for some time. Beautiful country, beautiful people, I loved every second of it. Every night I would go out with my American buddies on the town and we would just fuck around, have some fun. Well one night I’d gotten separated, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe they ditched me, I don’t know, we don’t really talk anymore so I don’t think I ever will. But anyways, as you do when you’re drunk and alone, I found trouble. Some man came up to me with a knife, tried to rob me, I was really in no state to fight back, but in comes this woman to defend me. I’d seen her around the base before, she was Mexican Special Forces, I knew that. I also knew how goddamn hot she was. With her tattoos running all up and down her toned arms, and how enchanting her deep brown eyes were.”

The team immediately got chatty at that, hyping her up. “L/n with the moves,” one of them had teased. She laughed, feeling blood pumping in her face.

“So anyways, she jumps in and fights the guy for trying to rob me while I was so drunk. I was absolutely slack-jawed. I’d never had anyone fight so fiercely for me in my life, especially not a stranger, and even more especially not a stranger I had a huge crush on. I remember her turning to me, once the dude was down for the count and just saying ‘you okay?’ I can remember her exact tone and god, it made me melt. She walked me back to my barracks and I was done for. The very next day I sought her out and told her I’d buy her a drink to make up for it. Thus started an epic romance.”

Y/n grinned as the others piped in with their little comments, excited to finally get to talk about her lost love after all this time.

“For months we went out together, dancing, talking, drinking, everything else that comes along with a relationship,” she smirked at that, face only dropping as she got the ‘getting away’ part, “and, uh, we were happy, y’know. I could see myself having a future with this woman. But as life has it, I was stationed elsewhere while she had been on a mission. I tried calling the base a few times.” She stopped to collect her breath, “but, uh, I was told that her and her squad went MIA on that mission. Likely killed in action is what they said.”

She sniffled a little bit, hoping it was unnoticeable by her teammates. Shaking her head as she finished her drink, and began to stand she turned to them for a final time, “I’m gonna turn in for the night it’s getting late.”

The rest of them nodded, waiting until she was gone to quietly chat amongst themselves. She was the topic of choice, of course. How bad they all felt for her. How guilty they felt for bringing it up. Ultimately it wasn’t their fault but they felt awful. Not too long after, they themselves all turned in, awaiting what the next day would have for them.

Months later, after many missions, and after the conversation they had had slipped away from them, the task force found themselves on their way to Mexico in search of the infamous cartel leader, El Sin Nombre. No one dared to mention y/n’s past, but of course, they weren’t completely discreet with their fleeting looks.

Despite their knowledge of y/n’s deployment to a base in Mexico, they were still shocked to see that the Colonel as well as some of the soldiers of the Las Almas base knew her.

“Y/n! Long time no see, last I saw you, you were still just a private.” Colonel Alejandro Vargas said, patting her on the shoulder in greeting as the group got off their chopper.

Y/n smirked, “could say the same to you. Wonder who died and made Lieutenant Vargas into the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces.”

Alejandro rolled his eyes and went to counter, but the man next to him made himself known with a contagious laugh. The task force could see sparkles in y/n’s eyes at the sound.

“Rudy!” She shouted, happily enveloping the giggly man into a hug.

“Hi, y/n.” He smiled, hugging her back just as tight.

In the midst of it all, Captain Price couldn’t help but clear his throat to get the group’s attention. “I hate to break this up,” he said, thick British drawl dragging out every word, “but we really do have some pressing matters to take care of.”

Y/n and Rodolfo split, standing at attention. Alejandro spoke for them, “you are right, there will be plenty of time to catch up once this is all over.”

They each nodded in agreement, eager to get to the task at hand.

It was no easy feat. Despite not really keeping up with the news in Las Almas since she had been gone, y/n knew just how bad cartels could get. That paired with the frustration that seemed to radiate from Alejandro every time El Sin Nombre was mentioned, he had to be some bad, bad motherfucker.

Soap went in under no guise or cover, walking right up to the front door and presenting himself like meat to hungry wolves. Y/n and Alejandro, on the other hand, terminated nearly half a dozen cartel soldiers, stealing their masks and outfits to fit right in to the party.

They surveilled Soap throughout, following closely behind, making sure no actual cartel soldiers noticed him. They followed him right to the third floor, right to El Sin Nombre. When the name Valeria left Soap’s mouth after looking through the snake cam, y/n and Alejandro made eye contact, both feeling a similar nausea at the thought.

But they shook it off.

It couldn’t possibly be her, right? She died on a mission targeting the son of La Araña, didn’t she? Sure she was officially determined MIA but a person doesn’t get lost this long, not like this.

Sure enough, as the door burst open, through the hail of bullets being shot across the room both to and from cartel higher ups, there she was.

The shock was evident on y/n’s face as she saw the woman kneeling on the roof. She saw short, dark hair and shook. It’s not her, it can’t be her. But it was. She could tell by the dark eyes carefully watching her every move as she walked behind the woman, pulling her hands down around the woman’s body and behind her back to cuff them.

Y/n prayed the woman couldn’t feel the tremor in her hands, but she knew all too well. Once upon a time the dark-haired woman knew every detail about her, it almost seemed as though that hadn’t changed.

Few words were uttered on the chopper back to the Vaquero’s base— save for a few “shut up Graves,”’s since the man refused to stop talking all smug, as though he was the sole reason El Sin Nombre had finally been caught— but a million things went unsaid as y/n avoided the Vaqueros’ gazes. The rest of the 141 were none the wiser to the fleeting looks that the Vaqueros shared.

The waiting period was long and drawn out as the woman was processed. Of course she had to have her prints and DNA taken, it’s never as simple as getting to talk to her first.

The anticipation was getting to y/n, who was anxiously chewing her nails down to the beds, leaving them jagged and slightly bloody.

The door clicked open, catching the room’s attention, “She’s been fully processed, whenever you’re ready you may begin the interrogation.” The soldier in the doorway stepped aside, clearing the path for the 141, the Colonel, and his second in command to pass.

They walked swiftly and with precision as they borderline-prowled their way down to the storage container that held the woman. Price took the lead as y/n and Alejandro fell behind, dragging their feet. Rudy followed behind the two, making sure neither avoided the inevitable.

Graves was the first to open his mouth, gesturing to both Alejandro and Valeria, “explain how you two know each other?”

Words, glares, and taunts were exchanged as they began the story.

“Go on, tell them.” Alejandro commanded.

Valeria scoffed, “I don’t take orders anymore, even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me.” Valeria’s eyes caught y/n’s hesitant form as she spoke the last part.

Alejandro angrily shook his head, “she’s ex-military, we served together.”

Despite their distances, and their long time apart, the two shared a perfect flow when telling the story.

“Different squads, same unit.” Valeria began, “you were the wild ones, huh? Los Vaqueros.”

Alejandro grinned at her words.

Her gaze once more shifted to y/n, “my squad was clean cut señoras y señores.”

“Until the raid on the son of La Araña,” Valeria smirked at the sentence, Alejandro continued. “Her team was told to cordon of the city to ward off La Araña’s enforcers and prevent the bloodshed.”

“That’s exactly what we did,” she smiled.

Alejandro’s anger only spiked at her smug face, “What, you kept out his enforcers because you were his enforcers, eh?”

Her voice was taunting, “he was escorted to the mountains without incident, also to prevent bloodshed.”

Y/n felt her stomach turn. All the time she spent sobbing over Valeria and yet all the while the woman was running around doing all sorts of illegal activities.

Rudy piped in, almost as shocked at the realization as y/n, “he was supposed to go to prison.”

Graves grabbed Valeria’s shoulder, pulling her back, and further pissing off y/n. “So you killed him. And you took over.”

“I created a power vacuum, and I filled it. Las Almas needs me.”

The moment his hands looked as though they were about to wander, y/n was upset, nearly growling out a rage-filled “hands off.”

Graves lifted his hands off of the woman as if he’d been burned, holding them up. “Woah, woah, woah. What’s with you getting all feisty over the prisoner?”

Y/n just glared, gaze unmoving.

“Holy shit,” Gaz whispered, glancing between y/n and Valeria, “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Y/n’s eyes softened in confusion, turning her attention to Gaz, “Pardon?”

The rest of the team seemed to come to the same realization as him, moments before he spoke, “Her. She’s Her. You said you had a romance with a soldier while stationed in Mexico, a soldier who went missing. With what Alejandro said, the stories line up, Valeria is the woman you were in love with, isn’t she?”

Y/n broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed, still enraged, altogether hot in the face as she stared at the floor. “Yeah,” she admitted hesitantly, “yeah, it’s her.”

Valeria’s eyes were stuck to her down-trodden form, smirking at the fact that she now knew; y/n had talked about her. Y/n talked about her to her team. A sweet little thought.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,“ Valeria spoke cockily, “you sure weren’t ashamed of it when we were in love.”

When we were in love.

The words stung. The wound was old, yet here it had been ripped open as if it had happened mere days ago.

“Yeah, well that was before you left me to join the cartel.”

Valeria scoffed, “Join it? Please, I fucking run it. Besides, I think you forget that you’re the one who left.”

As the tension rose between the former lovers, the atmosphere in the room became rather awkward. The 141, the Vaqueros, and the few Shadows who were in the room sat staring dumbly at each other, wondering just how long they should let this go on

“You wanna go there? As I recall, you left weeks before I was deployed on what I thought was a mission. Turns out you went off with your little druggie friends to play gangster. I called the base a million times, they told me you were dead!”

Valeria stood from her seat abruptly, causing everyone else in the room to reach for their guns. Neither y/n, nor Valeria stood down. Y/n gestured for the others to leave the room, they hesitated but eventually followed her command. Now face to face, feeling each other’s breaths on their cheeks, the two seethed.

“I bet you would have liked that, huh?” Valeria started, eyes set into a deep glare, “me being dead would have made this so much easier for you, no loose ends.”

If y/n didn’t know any better, she would think this was Valeria trying to get y/n to kill her, death before snitching after all. But y/n knew her, knew suicide wasn’t her calling. This wasn’t a plead for death, this was a challenge. Fuck with me, I dare you.

Y/n’s lips turned downward into a gritty scowl. Even through her anger, tears managed to slip their way through her glaring eyes at the thought of her ever wanting Valeria dead.

“Never.” She whispered, voice cracking, “I cried every night for you for months, Valeria. I loved you so much, god, I still fuckin’ do.”

She reached into her shirt, pulling out two sets of dog tags and gripping tightly onto one of them. The ones she held, Valeria knew very well. They matched the ones she kept tucked under her shirt. An old pair that she had given to y/n way back when; they were the ones she was issued as a sergeant, before she reached lieutenant status and received the ones she currently wore all these years later.

And all at once, Valeria felt her heart shatter.

All these years she had spent letting her anger toward y/n fester and grow, thinking she had just abandoned her. All these years and yet all the while, y/n was devastated. They told y/n she died. Y/n thought she was dead. Y/n mourned her, cried for her, hurt for her. And here was Valeria, yelling at her.

She softened her stiff posture, cautiously reaching out for y/n. Valeria cupped y/n’s cheek, and for a while they just sat there like that. Time passed but it felt like nothing compared to the eternity they had missed together. Y/n finally looked up. In one fell swoop, Valeria crashed her lips to y/n’s

The kiss was all consuming, destroying any distractions in its path as the lovers made up for lost time. Caution was thrown to the wind with neither girl worried about their positions and duties. In this kiss they were not El Sin Nombre nor Sergeant l/n, they were just lovers. Just Valeria and y/n, reunited.

What felt like a million hours were lost in each other’s lips. As they separated, Valeria’s eyes opened, y/n’s stayed shut. Valeria stared, waiting for y/n to reveal her gorgeous eyes, yet when the moment finally came, it hurt. Y/n’s eyes shined with sorrow, something Valeria could see very clear.

Valeria tried to reach forward, but y/n stepped back, clearing her throat, “this,” she sighed deeply, fighting internally with herself, “this cannot happen again.”

She turned her back toward Valeria, knowing it would be too hard to look her in the eyes. Knowing she would lose all composure and fold. But she stayed strong, and in a few short steps, she was out of the room.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Stranger 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You keep a frantic pace away from Clyde's place. Well, it isn't his anymore. You realise then you didn't get a name. You didn't get much of anything. Oh god. That was horrible. You told your grandmother you didn't want to bother. That man doesn't need a pie.

You come to the end of the drive and turn down the country road. At least it's good exercise. You shrug to yourself and cringe as you try to shake off the humiliation. Just stop thinking about it.

'Pie.'

Ugh, could you not think of anything else to say? You mutter to yourself about how stupid you are. What are you going to tell your grandma? She'll have a thousand questions, as nosy as she is.

As you carry on, wiping your sweaty palms on your flowy linen pants, you hear a rumbling. It's the familiar noise of a farmer's truck. You sidle over on the shoulder to make way for the passerby. To your surprise and chagrin, they don't pass. Instead, they slow and keep a snailish pace with you.

"Hey," the man calls. You know it's the stranger, his voice is stamped in your head; 'pie'. His eyes too. His bold blue irises stormy like the ocean. "Hey, let me give you a ride. Must be quite a ways you came down here."

"It's okay," you refuse to look over, "I'm fine."

"It's not too much trouble. I'm headed into town for some supplies. Maybe you know where I can find some chain."

He revs the truck, idling then bouncing forward with each step you make. You ball your fists tight as you stomp on. Why won't he let you go hide in shame?

"It was real sweet to bring that pie," he says, "what kind was it? I couldn't tell."

"Rhubarb," you answer, still bearing down on the country road. "I can walk, sir."

"I... I hope I didn't scare you," he says.

You're silent. You stalk onward. Home, home, always so far away. His stick shift cranks and the truck stops. He leaves it running as the door pops open and his footsteps march over the pavement onto the gravel.

"Will you please stop?" He comes up behind you, "look, where I'm from, we keep things even. You brought me a pie, I'll give you a ride."

You just want him to leave you alone. He might go away quicker if you just let him drive you. Then again, you don't like the idea of being alone in a car with him.

"No thank you."

"Hmm," he as good as growls, "you're the first unfriendly face I've met around here."

"I'm not..." you let your voice trail off, "sorry sir, but it's not far."

"Then it's no big thing."

"I like to walk," you squeak.

"Damn stubborn," he comments as he stops.

You keep going as his footsteps trail away. You don't look back as his engine roars again. He falls back into the same pattern as before, lurching forward little by little with your steps. You want him to go away so badly. You have tears in your eyes.

You look across the field. The Berrys are nice people. You gauge the distance to the trees. There's an old path you haven't been along since Cassidy still lived at home, your old babysitter.

You veer suddenly and fall into a sprint across the expanse of tall grass. You must look ridiculous but you've already made such a fool of yourself that it hardly matters. You're not really thinking, you're panicking.

You hear his engine stop and grumble in place. You pump your arms as you race over the flat ground and disappear behind the old well and down towards the brush. Your lungs burn but you don't stop. You can't.

He wouldn't follow you, would he?

You don't stop until you have to. You gasp and gulp and peer over your shoulder into the trees. There's nothing but the moss and scrambling critters. You stumble and lean on a thick trunk.

Great. You really outdid yourself. That man must think you're insane. Maybe you are.

You catch your breath and set back on the path home. Too bad the village is so small. The only way you'll never run into him again is if you take on a self-imposed exile.

Or you could just become a hermit.

You come in sight of your grandma's house. She's on the porch, swaying in the bench swing as she crochets. You tramp up the steps as she glance over without turning her head.

“That was quick,” she comments. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“You're a mess,” she scowls at your pants, mud splattered up the chambray.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you shrug. “Just took a shortcut.

“Mhmm, aren't you going to tell me about them?”

“Um,” you move to lean on the porch railing, “it was just some guy.”

“Some guy?” She wonders, needles clacking. “Young, old?”

“Er, I guess, pretty young…”

“So no wife? Single, hm,” she mulls.

“I think. I didn't ask.”

“Well, what's his name?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” She narrows her eyes.

“I didn't… get it.”

“Ugh,” she frowns, “I should've gone myself but my hip. I'll have to call Lynette and see if she's heard anythinf else.”

“Sorry,” you pout.

“Well, you never were very social,” she tuts, “but I'd say you're more than old enough to learn. I'd like to have a great grandchild or two before I'm in the ground.”

“Grandma,” you exclaim, “don't talk like that.”

“You need me too. You need sense. You have no sense of urgency, dear. In a place like this, that's saying something.”

You deflate and throw your hands up, “sorry to disappoint… again.”

You push yourself off the railing and drag your feet towards the door.

“Oh don't be a child,” she reproaches.

You ignore her snipe, “what do you want for dinner?”

“Already in the oven,” she states tritely, “silly me, I thought you might invite the new neighbour to meet me, since I'm a but limited at the moment.”

“I… didn't think.”

She hums in disapproving agreement. You continue inside before she can make you feel any smaller. You know you're behind, you always have been. You're just as disappointed as she is.

[brekkie-e]

I love your inquisitor so much! May I ask what happened to her left ear though?

Great question, I would love to tell you. (Also I’m sorry this took 10 years to answer. I really wanted provide visuals because this was already a topic I had planned to post about, and unfortunately I’ve been in a complete art block since January ish.) There is a TLDR at the end if needed.

To understand what happened to my darling little Nira’s ear a few things about her family need to be explained. Now, Nira is Dalish™️. But her mother was not born so. She grew up in Antiva city, and only joined the clan when she was about 19/20. Eloped with a dashing craftsmen, it was very romantic. She left family behind in the city, and Nira grew up visiting them on a semi-regular basis. My personal clan Lavellan is a really large one that has kind of commercialized itself to survive. They’ve found success setting up outside human residential areas and putting on shows and fairs where they sell “novelty” items as a way to make ends meet. So it wasn’t uncommon for them to be in the vicinity of the city, and it afforded them unusual freedom in trading with it’s inhabitants.

Nira also had a few cousin’s that lived in the city. And despite the exorbitant amount of siblings I have given this character, her dearest friends during her childhood were her cousins, Tara and Islene. Fraternal twins. And being girls from the mother’s side of the family, still descendent from the Ghilan’nain priestess who received the magical bloodline trait. Due to this, Islene was born a mage like most women in her family. (Luckily the city elf side had for the most part been able to keep this under the radar of templars.)

Much of Ama’nira’s story is defined by this trio and their overall narrative.

For all that Nira was allowed to visit her cousins in her childhood, most of the time was spent almost exclusively with the clan because the Keeper and her mother did not want to tempt fate by letting a young child gifted with magic run amok in the city without intense supervision. Also she was notoriously fussy as a child due to sensory needs and having pretty strong preferences about food and things like that. Her mom even early on liked to keep a close watch over her because of this. But after a few years of begging, Nira was finally allowed to spend the night at her aunt and uncle’s house during a visit when she was about seven.

Everything started out okay, normal fun childhood sleepover type stuff. Nira was sent with some hearth cakes to bring for dessert. They played cards as a family. It was a lovely evening.

But as bed time drew near things started to veer off course. The girls were tucked in and put to sleep like normal. But shortly after the parents went to bed, Tara popped her head up and said they should go to the vhenadahl. “Maybe it will work if all three of us try it, and not just two.”

Nira had no idea what they were on about, but she was excited to be included as her sisters often left her out (they were much older than her.) So the little group make their way out of the house and down to the alienage center where the tree of the people is. The girls explain to Nira that according to legend, a spirit of Love lives in the tree and if someone manages to run around the it 3 times while only one moon is covered by a cloud and the other isn’t, the spirit will bless them. They tell her how they’ve tried and tried a thousand times, but no matter what they do they can’t get it to appear.

Naturally, the girls start giving it their all. They run around the tree dozens of times, tripping more than once because they were staring up at the moon while doing so. Giggling and squealing as they ran into eachother. This was not an uncommon thing for children to attempt in the alienage, so at this point most people tended to ignore them. It was basically a childhood rite.

However, most children that tried this weren’t also mages. Now, seeing as how there never was a spirit in the tree to begin with, luckily no demon summoning happened. That didn’t stop Tara from suggesting her two mage friends should try to “touch the fade” so it knew they were there. So for a few laps, Nira and Islene ran with their arms in the air, reaching out with their magic in whatever way they could to see if they could do what Tara was saying. As they had no idea what “touching” the fade even meant. Of course, this was a very ill advised thing to do, but they’re babies. And babies do dumb things.

No spirits were there to listen, but Templars on city watch were and arrived at the scene shortly after. The magical night that the girls were having crashed down around them as they turned to see the knights. Tara, being the scrappier one of the bunch, shouted at them to run. And they did. But Nira tripped on one of the cobblestones, and was nearly over taken. Islene seeing this turned back for her cousin and pulled her off the ground, pushing her forward. In the process, she was grabbed instead. Nira ran with everything she had.

The templars upon realizing that a frenzied, terrified, and untrained mage was fleeing into the city, and they were about to lose her made the call to attempt to “neutralize” her as a last ditch effort to ensure she could not become an abomination before they found her again. So arrows were loosed as she ran, and one pierced right through her ear. Nira, in a state of complete panic and terror, grabbed it and ripped it off- causing the missing chunk that she bears to this day.

Tara was able to make it home without being caught and in a state of shock explained to her parents what had happened. Her father left immediately to try and get Islene back from the Templars, but was beaten terribly and returned home empty handed. They ran to the clan and told them of what happened as soon as possible, and search parties were sent out for Ama’nira whilst also packing for an emergency move because they did not want the Templars to turn on the clan in their hunt for the young girl. They were forced to leave before finding her.

Nira meanwhile ran blindly through the city, stopping only when there was nowhere left to run. Which happened to be the docks. She found a barrel underneath a pier and hid in it for two days in a state of complete shock, not even noticing how much time went by. When her senses eventually came back to her, she managed to sneak her way around the city before hitchhiking in the back of a wagon and sneaking out the gates. She was too terrified to go back to the alienage as that was where it all happened. Unfortunately, the poor thing had no idea how to actually get to where the clan had camped, and to begin with they weren’t there anymore. So when she eventually saw some woods, she jumped out of the wagon and started wandering. In a complete stroke of luck, one of her brothers who had not given up the search had been heading back to the city and was able to find her and bring her home.

To wrap this up, the event left Nira deeply traumatized and she would continue to struggle with using magic for many years afterwards. She only truly is able to break through her barriers with it once befriending Dorian. It left Islene in the circle, and she is made tranquil only a few years after. And it would lead Tara to grow up in what would quickly become a broken home, her mother leaving to prevent the templars from discovering her magic and her father descending into alcoholism to cope with what had become of his family. Few people foster as much hatred towards Templars as Tara, she blames them for everything bad that’s ever happened to her and her loved ones.

Nira and Tara actually start Inquisition as a pair, with Tara becoming her pseudo enforcer during the course of the game. When Ama’nira was chosen by her keeper to attend the Conclave, a decision aimed at allowing Nira to find closure and give her the opportunity to grow outside of her mother’s influence, Tara decided to go with her as a guide/protection. The pair hoped to find Islene at the Temple and discover what had happened to her.

TLDR: Her ear was injured during an altercation with templars in her childhood where cousin was taken to the Antivan Circle. It is the foundational event that ties Nira’s story with her cousins which is very important to the overall arc of my canon Inquisition plot.

[diamantinasfrilledshark]

Roleplay Rules!

Status: Semi-Open as of November 2nd, 2023

Feel free to DM me or ask any questions in my inbox! I can't guarantee that RPs will start right away, but we can definitely start setting things up.

In order to RP with me, you NEED to send me the hidden phrase in here so I know you actually read the rules. If not, I will not RP.

Literacy Style:

Literate to semi-literate. I like to write in multiple paragraphs, both with detail and somewhat dialogue heavy. If you’ve seen my writing, it’s a lot like that! I expect potential RP partners to follow in suit/match.

It seems as of late that I prefer literate with multiple paragraphs and details.

I’ve been RPing since I was like, 10. If I see *she smiles* it might summon rage 💀 /hj

Where We Can Talk:

Just starting off? Tumblr DMs! I won’t RP in the comment section of a post.

You can now ask for my Discord. It’s where I’m most active.

Slots:

Don’t really have a cap off but it becomes too much at once I will be sure to let you know.

Genres and Plots:

Almost anything and everything! However, towards strangers and people I’m generally unfamiliar with, SFW are going to be the topics I steer towards. Adventure, drama, horror etc. are all fine the first go around.

I’m pretty flexible on genres so like, hey don’t be afraid to suggest it.

NSFW, I like writing smut, I just need to like you as well lol. Not a slight on your behalf, but I will let you know whether smut is a possibility or not.

NSFW will only be done with other 18+ adults who have verified they are in fact, adults. I absolutely refuse NSFW to “ageless” accounts and minors.

Honestly I don’t want to RP with minors so if you’re a minor, don’t message me. Don’t do it. Thanks.

Pairings:

Gets a little odd here, I don’t actually ship anything, if that makes any sense? Like, canon character X canon character just isn’t in my repertoire unless they’re already an established couple or the franchise is heavily leaning them that way.

That said, I’m totally cool with self shipping and OCs X Canon characters. (If self ship, it has to go both ways. Sorry I’m a simp too 😔)

Platonic, familial, those work best though especially if I am unfamiliar with you as a person.

Honestly I’m not as veered towards romance unless you’re a good friend of mine.

Do:

When first DMing, send me memes to help break the ice! I’m pretty good about speaking to people, but I understand how awkward it can be

If you’re using an OC, please tell me all about your OC! If you have any reference pics etc, send them so I can describe them during the RP.

If you’re playing a canon character and you’ve changed anything about them that’s notable, feel free to mention their quirks, and the lore building you’ve done for them.

Tell me if it gets to be too much or if you wish to change directions. I want you to feel safe and have a free voice during the chat. If something doesn’t click, tell me.

Please talk to me about the RP plot before we start! That gives me a good direction on what bases to hit and which lines to not cross. Your boundaries are just as important as mine and I want to respect them.

Use brackets or some other notation to let me know you’re speaking out of character! I’m very prone to using []

Understand that you can leave for a while and don’t need to apologize. Genuinely, I know you’ll get back to me. If you don’t think you will or it’ll take longer than expected then let me know. I know people get busy, so it’s honestly no problem.

Don’t:

Do NOT ask to RP if you are a minor. I do not wish to RP with minors.

Send me unsolicited NSFW or a starter without any conversation prior to. It’s just kind of ???? On my end.

Do not godmod HEAVILY. I’m okay with like, “and he helped her up and watched as she walked over to the desk.” But fully godmodding is a no.

Send one liners. Self explanatory.

Wildly deviate from the plot in bizarre ways. Like, making things NSFW all of a sudden or cause angst when there was none. I hate saying “Mary Sue the RP” but do not Mary Sue the RP.

Please don’t be upset when I take a hot minute or two to respond. I’m a person that has a life outside of her phone and is actually prone to migraine if I look at screens for too long. I will always get back to the RP unless I say otherwise.

Be pushy for a character or a pairing I said no to.

Go too OOC for canon characters.

Ask for things like rape, beastiality, common DNI criteria.

I understand RP can be therapeutic but remember, I am not a therapist and the RP we have is not substitute for actual mental health help.

Fandoms:

SCP

Call of Duty

Darkwood

Assassin’s Creed

Grimm

Uncharted

My Little Pony (yeah goin' back to my roots)

My OCs (need to ask about those, there’s,,,, many and they’re all intricate.)

Other Things:

Please use third person, past or present tense. Usually past tense.

I feel it goes hand in hand with literate RP but use “speaking” for a dialogue and ‘thinking’ for thoughts.

Try not to rush anything! Let it happen naturally and it’ll all play out.

Don’t be afraid to talk to me outside of the RP either. Like, it’s a personal thing we’re probably going to become friends.

Some Examples of My RP Style:

Mind you, not all of these are going to be extremely long. Things tend to taper out.

All of these examples were lifted directly from one of my RPs.

November 2nd, 2023: I swear not all of my replies are going to be like this. I'm immensely more busy now.

This is a starter:

A young princess sat on the balcony of her mother’s grand palace. The stars of the night were absolutely gorgeous as her dark eyes peered upwards, tracing constellation upon constellation. There, she could see the proud statue of Amun and feel the loving gaze of the beautiful mother goddess, Hathor. Strings upon strings of stars hung in the sky and bathed the desert in a warm white and blue gold, illuminating the darkness so she could observe the night life of her people. At barely eighteen years old, the young princess had been coming to a very startling conclusion as she stared out at the houses amongst the dunes and the boats and their ferriers on the Nile: that one day, all of this would be hers. The thought scared her, as ruling over such a people with the same authority as her mother and her mothers before her… The burden was crushing in its own right.

Sameera, the current pharaoh of Egypt and seated daughter of Isis and Ra, had been gearing her only daughter up for greatness since she had been brought into the world. The palace had served little as a home and more of a house of education, gearing up the little girl for a future in which all would bow down to her. Sameera has been, and will be considered a bountiful ruler. She ushered in an Egypt in which magick and divine favor rained down on the land, where suffering was lightened, and where pain had been naught but a bruise.

To give her daughter, Tavi, a taste of what it would mean to be the seated pharaoh and begin expanding her power besides running the palace, Sameera had placed her in charge of the Festival of Hathor. The festival in itself being amongst the most important task Tavi has been held in charge of to this date. In the morning, Tavi would be heading out by herself to Dendera, the main site of Hathor’s cult and preside over it, and of course, ensure it passes smoothly.

It sounds so simple: let people get drunk and feast, make merry, and enjoy singing and dancing in the company of others, but Tavi has never been a part of such importance in ritual ceremonies. She’s only ever observed, and even that in itself has been something hidden to her as her mother finds the merrymaking beneath her real education under the watchful eyes of Thoth.

Tavi sighs deeply and rests her arms on the balcony for just a moment more, already intending to head back inside and rest for the night before one of her lady maids interrupts her train of thought.

“My lady,” the finely dressed woman begins. “You have a visitor.”

Tavi’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she crosses the balcony through the cool night air to come to her lady maid’s side. “What? Who on earth would come to my quarters at this hour?” She inquires, more curious than angered at the thought she has a visitor.

The woman bows her head in the princess’s presence as if to silently ask her if she should address the visitor. “I believe it pertains to the Festival of Hathor, but it was not my place to pry,” the lady maid continues, her voice soft and sweet. “Shall I tell them to leave?”

Tavi blinks before shaking her head. “No, you may leave. I’ll handle this,” she replies warmly, her hand resting on the taller woman’s shoulder. “Go, get some rest,” she hums.

The lady maid nods, thanks her princess, then exits out the servant’s entrance, leaving Tavi to her own devices.

The young princess brushes back some of her black hair, wondering who would ask audience with her so informally and so late at night. She crosses her limestone floor quietly, akin to a ghost as if to tell her visitor no one is present before stopping just shy of the door. Mentally, Tavi remembers what her mother has said about acting regally in the presence of others, how to stand tall and like a future queen, and physically rolls that onto her stance.

With a deep breath, she opens the door.

And here is another response show casing what RPs tend to look like down the line WITHOUT me RPING multiple characters:

Tavi’s eyebrows shoot up In surprise as the listens to Arya’s words. “That is troubling,” she murmurs more to herself than anyone else as she once again brushes back some of her hair.

Her mind wanders, wondering what the right course of action would be. Of course, they would be moving during the earlier morning before the sun would come up, but with the flowers on the line… “perhaps we should leave earlier,” she hums.

But then that would require waking up the rest of the party—and they needed their rest. “We can discuss this inside, please,” Tavi moves aside in the doorway, gesturing for Arya to enter. “I would despise seeing your work go to waste because of the heat and the sun,” she says, already moving to her table to give Arya a cup of water.

[Howdy, here’s the phrase. “An ocean without unnamed monsters would be like sleep without dreams.” ]

And here is a response showcasing me RPING multiple characters:

Abasi mentally rolled his golden eyes at Arya’s childish gesture as he led Tavi through the halls. He enjoyed the feeling of the princess’s hands on his forearm—she felt delicate beneath his touch, and it made his heart beat just a little bit faster.

The area they had stepped into was absolutely beautiful, gorgeous in every which way. The air was sweet and warm, like a mother’s caress.

“Great mother Hathor,” Tavi murmured, her head bowing in reverence to the goddess. “What a beauty and blessing you are,” she murmured to herself, slowly letting go of Abasi’s forearm.

“Princess!” A priest’s voice cut through. “What a pleasure to see you here,” he said warmly. “I presume you’ve come to make an offering?”

Tavi smiled and nodded, gently telling Abasi that his guard could lower. “I have. What a magnificent job you and the priests and priestesses have done.”

The priest beamed and quickly nodded for one of the lower ranking priestesses to fetch a bowl full of offerings they’d prepared for the princess. “It means the world t hear it from you,” he said. “We’ve gone all out this time for her festival.”

“It shows,” Tavi hummed, silently thanking the lower ranking priestess who handed her a bowl full of spices, jewelry, flowers and sweet smelling oils. Gently, Tavi came to the edge of the pool, kneeling down and offering silent prayers to Hathor, a blessed mother, before placing the bowl gingerly on the water.

It rippled as it flowed on the surface, almost resting perfectly in the middle amongst the sparse lily pads and lotus flowers.

On her way back up, Abasi offered the princess his hand, and she took it.

The priest once again beamed. “The goddess is most pleased with your presence,” he noted, barely able to contain his joy. “Would your companions like to make offerings as well?”

[mongpht]

Idia Shroud - Broom Bloom Birthday SSR Personal Story [PART 1]

Ignihyde dorm — birthday party venue

Idia: Ah. Another year, another obligatory birthday party, even though I don't want that. No, no, no… haha. I'm not going to be forced to be face-to-face, but the tablet can't be used. Depending on the presenter, it might not be possible…

???: Excuse me.

Riddle: I'm Riddle Roseharts, and I'm in charge of the birthday interview. I would like to wish you a happy birthday, Idia-sempai.

Idia: H-hi… Well, I don't… I-it's not like a party, it's more like a gathering of ants by the pear.

Riddle: We see each other often, but there aren't many opportunities for in-depth conversation. Let's start with the important stuff.

Idia: I'm glad to hear that Riddle-san doesn't need a warm-up conversation or anything. Thank you for understanding that.

Riddle: Okay, first question. "If you could go anywhere with a broom, where would you want to go?"

Idia: I've already decided beforehand. I don't want to go anywhere. I'm going to stay in my room.

Riddle: I knew you were going to say that. You're the kind of person who never disappoints. However, you must answer the questions normally. Those are the rules. I'll do my best to squeeze a non one-word answer out of you.

Idia: God… The title of this interview is now, "It's my birthday and I'm being threatened by my kohai"?

Riddle: So where do you want to go?

Idia: Where do I want to go? God… Perhaps I'd like to visit the Valley of Hydra.

Riddle: Hydra Valley is a canyon with sheer cliff walls in the Land of Heroes, isn't it?

Idia: Yes, it is. Legend has it that this place used to be the fortress of a monster with nine heads.

Riddle: I couldn't imagine that Idia-sempai would want to put herself in such a difficult situation.

Idia: There are other reasons why people seek to enter the Hydra Valley…

Riddle: May I ask the details?

Idia: I often admired pictures of the place as a child, so I've loved it since I was a kid.

Riddle: In other words, you'd like to see for yourself where it was taken…

Idia: The technology was first developed in the 1960s. CG and drone technology was not as advanced as it is today. So the cast and crew were actually climbing trees. And even the cameraman-focuser used his flying skills to take part in the shoot. But it was so bad! I was so nervous watching them. The height and strength of the film made my hands sweat! If it was so great on film at the time, the present will never be as good.

Riddle: I understand that when you experience something yourself, your knowledge deepens. I hope one day that will happen.

Idia: Well, with my piloting technique, it doesn't even make sense to start or try… It would take a lot of time and effort to get there any other way. So… 360° VR is the only way! It would be even better if smells and air were also realistically reproduced. Eventually, I'd like to build such a device myself. Would you like to try a local RTA tour?

Riddle: It's like a game… I don't think I understood any of it, but I think they enjoy it as a game. Idia-sempai, I'm afraid I'm veering off topic. Can I ask you a personal question?

Idia: Sorry, but I have a bad feeling about this question. If I can answer it…God.

Riddle: Thank you. One of the passages mentions that you use a homemade robot to clean your room, but there's a lot to do, such as moving and sorting things. I think it would be more efficient to use a challenge technique rather than designing and building machines from scratch.

Idia: No, the more you use them, the more they consume magic. It's true that the little fairies that like to clean up save energy, and the summoning procedure is simple, but… If all they have to do is pick up a few pieces of trash, they can be summoned with a simple push of a button. "2~3 Pop!" The energy saving process is simple.

Riddle: Did you build your robot specifically for this? Wouldn't it be most energy efficient to collect them yourself?

Idia: No, because I want to move as little as possible myself. That's all I can say. Riddle-san, let's get back to the main question.

To be continued...

translate by mongpht. DON'T USE AND REPOST MY TRANSLATE!

[spiribia]

Bluey /is/ very obviously a show for very young kids but I also can see why it specifically would resonate with adult parents who watch it with their very young kids. I am just saying this as someone who only peripherally knows about any of this and watched a limited few of its 7-min episodes out of curiosity. Its particular focus on the relationship between parents and their kids & like the weird and charming and dumb stuff that occurs there. I definitely get why people would watch an ep and go why the hell would someone my age watch this but at the same time I feel like a lot of “why would parents get personally invested in the show their kids watch where the protagonists conflict is some shit like that they are learning the ABCs” assumes that all people are seeing themselves as Bluey in the fandom way that people project onto kid protagonists in shows with a slightly older demographic, & not as Bluey’s parents or just older people in general being reminded of little kids in their lives. Although I’m not going to make universal statements. I think there are moments of real sincerity if you are willing to sift through a lot of “I am definitely much older than the target audience of this” moments & people’s tolerance for going through that will be higher or lower and I don’t think there’s anything especially wrong with any of that as long as you don’t act weird with it. I also think the animation style really cements it for some as being of a certain maturity. I also think it’s very silly to assert that it has more complex writing than most adult media. But ok all veering off topic. Sorry if I look nuts for posting Bluey episode but like is this not the kind of thing you can reasonably understand a parent watching with their small child and going Wait this really actually reaches me.

[hologramcowboy]

Hello! I hope you’re having a good day!

I’m just writing in response to the ask you posted breaking down their observations of Jensen's behavior during JIB. I agree with so much of what they noted, although I haven’t watched the Jensen and Misha panel yet so I can’t comment on that.

I feel like Jensen did a lot of talking around answers, and agree that he came off as very defensive a few times. Some of his answers didn’t even really make sense, or veered wildly off topic. I’m not sure I got as much of a cocky vibe as the other ask, but definitely an off vibe. I also agree with the idea that he was annoyed that Jared wasn’t there and he probably felt like he was at an "extra" con, but I didn’t get the sense he was actually trying to crap on Jared with his "jokes" in a malicious way, if that makes sense. I do think he did seem genuinely tired, though.

This con gave me that feeling again of, "is Jensen okay?" And I didn’t mean in the wooby sense of, "the poor man deserves to be endlessly stroked for bravely doing his job and coming to this con on little sleep." But on a deeper, I’m not sure how well he’s coping with things in his life right now kind of way. This sort of surprised me (but also not since he was around Hellers and cockles shippers for a weekend) because in the last few cons, he’s seemed pretty good and him and Jared have felt almost like their old dynamic is back in full swing. And he seemed a bit better to me in the well-being sense. But, now I’m just a bit concerned about him again. I think he is almost lonely and unfulfilled…? Or he just relies on Jared that much to bounce off of at cons and it exhausts him to "carry" them a,one.

Sorry, I didn’t really add much new here, but just wanted to point out I agreed with the other ask's points. I’d be interested anything more you wanted to add about Jensen at the con, too. I like hearing about people’s opinions on him when they like him but aren’t AAs and who don’t hate him because if the prequel.

"I’m just a bit concerned about him again. I think he is almost lonely and unfulfilled"

In an nutshell, that's the same impression I get, I fear he hides deep pain and he is definitely unfulfilled in his life despite having all the trappings.

[ask-the-diamond-kingdom]

(blueespeon) Nahi @ Yuuto

I am sorry, but what exactly do you mean, by "made a demigod"? Are you telling me you were once mortal and was elevated into that status?

Could... Could someone like me also be elevated into that kind of status? How does that work, actually?

I am quite curious on that, if you would elaborate on the details.

The presence of the Nahl made Yuuto jumped in surprise. The young man was not expecting to see a Mew to appear before him. You can vaguely hear Lucius go "oh damn" in surprise because he also wasn't expecting this. Once his initial surprise went away, Yuuto cleared his throat (despite such a motion not being needed, considering he was now using telepathy).

"Yes, I was once mortal. Despite the fact that I do possess my father's blood, godhood isn't something that you usually obtain through blood alone. I think the only exception that I recall this being the case is Kubfu..but I personally like to think he gotten lucky because his other parent is Victini. Even then, he's still a demigod." Yuuto shrugs.

"The act of being a God is one that requires patience, time, skill and a better understanding on one's self. To understand who you are will allow you to have better idea of what you have to offer to this world. For example, Victini is the God of Victory and Luck. Before he was a god, he was the demigod of victory. He had to learn what it means to victorious. He had to learn what is the difference between a big victory and a small victory for others. It is through his journey of learning about this that he would make the connection that luck is connected to victory and its importance. It is through that he craved that desire to understand the mechanics of luck and how not to abuse it...but to ensure it continued to be natural. It is through that he earned the right to ascend."

Yuuto gave a little hum. "Being a demigod is a step to becoming a proper god. Think of it like...you're starting a entry level job and you're working out the mechanics of it. It may take time for you to get a promotion, and that's something Gods and demigods have to accept since this allows us to humble ourselves. It is Arceus we go to when we feel it is time for us to become Gods as he is the one who acts as the judge of the world. He cares about it and all of us in it...so if he feels we aren't ready, he will tell us."

"Ah...it seems as if I might have veered a bit off topic. Becoming a demigod requires us to take in the blood of Arceus. It's....a painful process espesically if you're close to death from what I vaguely recall him mentioning. That stuff is potent if you're a mortal that don't know what you're doing with his blood. I think it took me a week or two to be able to move. As for if you're capable of doing it, I think it's possible as long as you're mindful of side effects."

It seems as if he's more comfortable with talking to Mews thanks to the gifts he received from that mew from earlier. That and Nahi seemed very respectful.

Ask Hints Updated

@blueespeon

[magicshopaholic]

A lot of fanfic authors have deactivated their accounts lately. I was wondering if you know why - I've seen one or two still writing on AO3 so maybe it's a Tumblr thing? Or a BTS thing? Do you think you will ever leave Tumblr if AO3 or Wattpad are preffered? (I hope not)

This took me a couple of days to answer - sorry about that.

It's such a coincidence because I was talking about something similar with a mutual of mine very recently. I do know of some fellow writers who have deactivated, but since I don't know exactly why I don't want to presume to guess their reasons. I do know that some of them are on AO3; we've connected on there so I'm glad they're still around.

I have no view on Wattpad. Regarding Tumblr and AO3, both have their pros and cons. Tumblr is a social media site so everything is created and consumed from the point of view of content, which expects a certain kind of engagement and marketing, while AO3 is strictly for writers - but it also has a nice social, community aspect to it which AO3 doesn't.

I've been on Tumblr for a decade so I know there are peaks and troughs on the site over time, at least in the pockets I've been in. There is a bit of a lull; there are writers and readers that have come and gone in the community, and in my own little blog as well. Maybe it's the interest in my fics (let's face it, the universe is getting enormous), maybe it's the fact that BTS is on hiatus, or maybe it's got nothing to do with either and they're just busy with their own lives. My point is, there's no use speculating why they've drifted away because it's not really any of my business - all I can do is miss them, wish them well and be here if they ever decide to return.

I may have veered a bit off topic for a mo' - but in answer to your question, I don't have any immediate plans to leave Tumblr. I don't want to stop posting because it's forcing me to maintain the discipline to write, but who knows. It's very nice of you to want me to stay, though :)

[fictionkinfessions]

oh my god okay i am a full entire week late to the canon quote game but i saw the prompt when it got posted and then went offline for a full entire week because my sibling was here and i wanted to be fully present bcuz they hadnt stayed over in a bit AND im not sure i actually understood the prompt now that ive read other peoples responses but i miss submitting here so

i actually can sort of quote myself? like. i would say “dont overthink that”/“dont think too hard about that” a lot, basically whenever i said something that could possibly be a little bit, uh. concerning, if you thought about it too long, usually because i had just finished thinking about it too long and then gone. fuck. wait. god dammit im doing it again arent i. and anyways this was not a common thing for most folks to say as far as i can remember so when i first remembered this (read: figured out why i suddenly kept saying this thing that i couldnt have picked up from anyone in this life because none of my friends ever say that) i was basically like lmao dumbass didnt realize this was not even in the top three problems of the day for most other dragons around him but um. recently i figured out that i actually picked this up from thorn. who… didnt really say it very often to pretty much anyone who wasnt me. for reasons that are becoming increasingly obvious. so technically i uh. technically i can actually quote thorn, it turns out, basically, is what im getting at here.

weirdly writing all this out kind of triggered a couple memories of specific things that got said that might fit the prompt a bit better but theyre all a little too personal to share here honestly. mostly because it would be super fucking obvious who else was involved in the conversation and that feels… weird idk. (and also technically i guess all of this is just my brains awkward translation of a language that does not exist (that i couldnt really recreate or transcribe even if i remembered it accurately) and theres a certain connotation to what was actually being said at least in the first case that i cant really explain and that is killing me right now omg. sometimes i forget why i dont even bother trying to explain my memories to most people anymore and then i try to participate in an ask game or an ongoing conversation or something and im like. ah. right. the vocal chords. lmao.) anyways sorry this kinda veered off topic a little but i cannot sleep right now and its seriously been ages since i submitted here. and also i really dont know what else you would expect from me lol -qibli (wings of fire)

[spnshameblog]

i really hate when, in an attempt to not be unhealthily obsessed stans, people pivot 180 degrees and say incredibly weird things or borderline threatening things. or not necessarily when they don't want to "worship celebs" but when they dislike some of them, like i just saw the other day someone in spn fandom answer an ask about why they've been suspended from twitter that it was bc they said actors should be burned at stake. how is that not extremely weird to say?

Yes, i completely agree and it so annoying bc its utterly performative. Like ive seen people viciously hate on jackles a few days ago and now theyre back to just reblogging gifsets of him? Idk if its a me problem, but once ive worked up enough rage to actually make angry posts about it, i dont "get over it" within the week.

So yeah, i feel like a lot of the anti jackles posts of the past week came from ppl who saw ppl being vocally upset about the goings on and wanted to look supportive without actually understanding the problems. Like, this attitude of his isnt anything new and while i absolutely get that people are upset (i am too!!) ...... why are ppl calling for his head NOW? The walker info has been around for a while, he has literally always been weird about destiel and while that doesnt mean its less infuriating, it kind of shows that people only got upset about it once they saw other people on their dash get mad about it. Which is normal to a point, but people feel this need to be THE MOST ANGRY and the MOST visibly upset about it in a way that just screams "look at what great and correct opinions i have" and then they forget about it a week later.

but this ask was probably about that post where someone listed a few shitty things misha has said, which irritated a lot of ppl bc it was mostly stuff that happened years ago and he has apologised for and modified his behaviour wrg to most of these. i agree to a point, theres no need to intentionally dig up missteps and present them in an inflammatory way just so you can show the world how good and critical you are about the celebs you like. on the other hand posts like these (when they include context and whether or not somebody has apologised and made up for the mistakes) can be good, bc they show that even famously wellmeanin people like misha can fuck up and that you SHOULD tell them that theyve fucked up, but that theyre capable of seeing the error of their ways and leaarning from them, too.

its not anyones job to educate celebrities, especially about stuff they should already know, but if everyone reacts to their fuckups in a “well, all celebs are trash anyways and anyone who looks up to them is naive and should feel stupid for being disappointed”  type of way, then how is anything ever going to get better? some people arent willing to learn, but you wont know that unless you try.

and yeah, i hate the casually violent way people talk about actors, too. this might be an inside joke in your tumblr bubble, hell, even I tag stuff as “killing that man” every once in a while, but you cant expect everyone to immediately catch that as a joke, especially when you do it on a platform that person is also on. and the ‘burned at the stake’ bit.......... lmao the way people actually, 100% unironically say this bc they want to look intellectual and aloof. babe, you reblogged a gifset about this man 10 minutes ago, nobody believes that youre “above stanning celebrities”. and, fyi, its not ok to wish harm upon a celebrity, even if you really really dislike them. why are you surprised that people dont like it when you wish bodily harm on a person, joke or not.

the supernatural fandom didnt invent “being a fan of an actor”, people have been doing that for years and there have always been people who go too far or who excuse inexcusable behaviour, but the way people act like any kind of admiration or affection for a celebrity is toxic or ‘too parasocial’ or naive is such bullshit.

[multifandomwritings]

chop top and nubbins (alive) fighting over an fem s/o???? keep up the good work!!

Sorry for the wait! I hope this is what you meant! I didn't get too detailed into how it'd be to date them/how they'd be if they liked you because I can do that separately if anyone wants, and focused this on how they'd ~compete~. I hope you like it ^^ (sorry if this is kind of bad asdjfkl)

Chop Top & Nubbins liking the same person would include:

- These two would get so caught up in their own little competition to win your feelings that they’d begin to forget what it was even about

- Nubbins would be doing his best to woo you (which, coming from Nubbins, is unique to say the least) when Chop Top runs over and shoves poor Nubbins into oblivion. It's his turn!

- However, they begin to argue before Chop Top can even shoot his shot, leaving you feeling a bit guilty but also trying not to laugh as their argument would veer off into totally unrelated subjects

- You quickly get overwhelmed by their unrelenting attention, the two both anxiously trying to seduce you to the best of their abilities, which are very unpracticed and chaotic. When one finally lays off for a while, the other will appear

- Drayton and Bubba are *tired*. You're the topic of conversation half the time and their usual antics are amplified greatly by what they view as a competition for your feelings

- Despite the chaos, however, they're both quite sweet and charming in their own ways. Nubbins is particularly sweet around you — he's always doing his best to impress you, blushing relentlessly at any attention you give him. He's a bit more shy than Chop Top, often staring at you and easily getting flustered

- Chop Top is better at getting *you* to blush. He'd also have a talent at getting you to laugh and smile easily, to his satisfaction. Asks you a million questions about your interests and such too, listening intently to whatever you have to say as he's genuinely intrigued by you

- No matter who you choose, it's okay of course. In the end they'll get over it (and will often remind you that you can change your mind if you want lol)

- Plot twist! You choose Bubba or Drayton. Chop Top and Nubbins just blame each other for ruining the other's chance (only kidding of course. Unless you do choose one of them, in which case, good for you!)

[whaleofatjme1920]

RP Rules

Status: Semi-Open as of July 26th, 2022

Feel free to DM me or ask any questions in my inbox! I can't guarantee that RPs will start right away, but we can definitely start setting things up.

In order to RP with me, you NEED to send me the hidden phrase in here so I know you actually read the rules. If not, I will not RP.

Literacy Style:

Literate to semi-literate. I like to write in multiple paragraphs, both with detail and somewhat dialogue heavy. If you’ve seen my writing, it’s a lot like that! I expect potential RP partners to follow in suit/match.

It seems as of late that I prefer literate with multiple paragraphs and details.

I’ve been RPing since I was like, 10. If I see *she smiles* it might summon rage 💀 /hj

Where We Can Talk:

Just starting off? Tumblr DMs! I won’t RP in the comment section of a post.

You can now ask for my Discord. It’s where I’m most active.

Slots:

Don’t really have a cap off but it becomes too much at once I will be sure to let you know.

Genres and Plots:

Almost anything and everything! However, towards strangers and people I’m generally unfamiliar with, SFW are going to be the topics I steer towards. Adventure, drama, horror etc. are all fine the first go around.

I’m pretty flexible on genres so like, hey don’t be afraid to suggest it.

NSFW, while I am not opposed to it at all, must be talked about extensively if you are not a close friend.

NSFW will only be done with other 18+ adults who have verified they are in fact, adults. I absolutely refuse NSFW to “ageless” accounts and minors.

Honestly I don’t want to RP with minors so if you’re a minor, don’t message me. Don’t do it. Thanks.

Pairings:

Gets a little odd here, I don’t actually ship anything, if that makes any sense? Like, canon character X canon character just isn’t in my repertoire unless they’re already an established couple or the franchise is heavily leaning them that way.

That said, I’m totally cool with self shipping and OCs X Canon characters. (If self ship, it has to go both ways. Sorry I’m a simp too 😔)

Platonic, familial, those work best though especially if I am unfamiliar with you as a person.

Honestly I’m not as veered towards romance unless you’re a good friend of mine.

Do:

When first DMing, send me memes to help break the ice! I’m pretty good about speaking to people, but I understand how awkward it can be

If you’re using an OC, please tell me all about your OC! If you have any reference pics etc, send them so I can describe them during the RP.

If you’re playing a canon character and you’ve changed anything about them that’s notable, feel free to mention their quirks, and the lore building you’ve done for them.

Tell me if it gets to be too much or if you wish to change directions. I want you to feel safe and have a free voice during the chat. If something doesn’t click, tell me.

Please talk to me about the RP plot before we start! That gives me a good direction on what bases to hit and which lines to not cross. Your boundaries are just as important as mine and I want to respect them.

Use brackets or some other notation to let me know you’re speaking out of character! I’m very prone to using []

Understand that you can leave for a while and don’t need to apologize. Genuinely, I know you’ll get back to me. If you don’t think you will or it’ll take longer than expected then let me know. I know people get busy, so it’s honestly no problem.

Don’t:

Do NOT ask to RP if you are a minor. I do not wish to RP with minors.

Send me unsolicited NSFW or a starter without any conversation prior to. It’s just kind of ???? On my end.

Do not godmod HEAVILY. I’m okay with like, “and he helped her up and watched as she walked over to the desk.” But fully godmodding is a no.

Send one liners. Self explanatory.

Wildly deviate from the plot in bizarre ways. Like, making things NSFW all of a sudden or cause angst when there was none. I hate saying “Mary Sue the RP” but do not Mary Sue the RP.

Please don’t be upset when I take a hot minute or two to respond. I’m a person that has a life outside of her phone and is actually prone to migraine if I look at screens for too long. I will always get back to the RP unless I say otherwise.

Be pushy for a character or a pairing I said no to.

Go too OOC for canon characters.

Ask for things like rape, beastiality, common DNI criteria.

I understand RP can be therapeutic but remember, I am not a therapist and the RP we have is not substitute for actual mental health help.

Fandoms:

SCP

Darkwood

Assassin’s Creed

Grimm

Uncharted

My OCs (need to ask about those, there’s,,,, many and they’re all intricate.)

If you mention it and I know it, there’s a chance I’ll go with it.

Other Things:

Please use third person, past or present tense. Usually past tense.

I feel it goes hand in hand with literate RP but use “speaking” for a dialogue and ‘thinking’ for thoughts.

Try not to rush anything! Let it happen naturally and it’ll all play out.

Don’t be afraid to talk to me outside of the RP either. Like, it’s a personal thing we’re probably going to become friends.

Some Examples of My RP Style:

Mind you, not all of these are going to be extremely long. Things tend to taper out.

All of these examples were lifted directly from one of my RPs.

This is a starter:

A young princess sat on the balcony of her mother’s grand palace. The stars of the night were absolutely gorgeous as her dark eyes peered upwards, tracing constellation upon constellation. There, she could see the proud statue of Amun and feel the loving gaze of the beautiful mother goddess, Hathor. Strings upon strings of stars hung in the sky and bathed the desert in a warm white and blue gold, illuminating the darkness so she could observe the night life of her people. At barely eighteen years old, the young princess had been coming to a very startling conclusion as she stared out at the houses amongst the dunes and the boats and their ferriers on the Nile: that one day, all of this would be hers. The thought scared her, as ruling over such a people with the same authority as her mother and her mothers before her… The burden was crushing in its own right.

Sameera, the current pharaoh of Egypt and seated daughter of Isis and Ra, had been gearing her only daughter up for greatness since she had been brought into the world. The palace had served little as a home and more of a house of education, gearing up the little girl for a future in which all would bow down to her. Sameera has been, and will be considered a bountiful ruler. She ushered in an Egypt in which magick and divine favor rained down on the land, where suffering was lightened, and where pain had been naught but a bruise.

To give her daughter, Tavi, a taste of what it would mean to be the seated pharaoh and begin expanding her power besides running the palace, Sameera had placed her in charge of the Festival of Hathor. The festival in itself being amongst the most important task Tavi has been held in charge of to this date. In the morning, Tavi would be heading out by herself to Dendera, the main site of Hathor’s cult and preside over it, and of course, ensure it passes smoothly.

It sounds so simple: let people get drunk and feast, make merry, and enjoy singing and dancing in the company of others, but Tavi has never been a part of such importance in ritual ceremonies. She’s only ever observed, and even that in itself has been something hidden to her as her mother finds the merrymaking beneath her real education under the watchful eyes of Thoth.

Tavi sighs deeply and rests her arms on the balcony for just a moment more, already intending to head back inside and rest for the night before one of her lady maids interrupts her train of thought.

“My lady,” the finely dressed woman begins. “You have a visitor.”

Tavi’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she crosses the balcony through the cool night air to come to her lady maid’s side. “What? Who on earth would come to my quarters at this hour?” She inquires, more curious than angered at the thought she has a visitor.

The woman bows her head in the princess’s presence as if to silently ask her if she should address the visitor. “I believe it pertains to the Festival of Hathor, but it was not my place to pry,” the lady maid continues, her voice soft and sweet. “Shall I tell them to leave?”

Tavi blinks before shaking her head. “No, you may leave. I’ll handle this,” she replies warmly, her hand resting on the taller woman’s shoulder. “Go, get some rest,” she hums.

The lady maid nods, thanks her princess, then exits out the servant’s entrance, leaving Tavi to her own devices.

The young princess brushes back some of her black hair, wondering who would ask audience with her so informally and so late at night. She crosses her limestone floor quietly, akin to a ghost as if to tell her visitor no one is present before stopping just shy of the door. Mentally, Tavi remembers what her mother has said about acting regally in the presence of others, how to stand tall and like a future queen, and physically rolls that onto her stance.

With a deep breath, she opens the door.

And here is another response show casing what RPs tend to look like down the line WITHOUT me RPING multiple characters:

Tavi’s eyebrows shoot up In surprise as the listens to Arya’s words. “That is troubling,” she murmurs more to herself than anyone else as she once again brushes back some of her hair.

Her mind wanders, wondering what the right course of action would be. Of course, they would be moving during the earlier morning before the sun would come up, but with the flowers on the line… “perhaps we should leave earlier,” she hums.

But then that would require waking up the rest of the party—and they needed their rest. “We can discuss this inside, please,” Tavi moves aside in the doorway, gesturing for Arya to enter. “I would despise seeing your work go to waste because of the heat and the sun,” she says, already moving to her table to give Arya a cup of water.

[Howdy, here’s the phrase. “An ocean without unnamed monsters would be like sleep without dreams.” ]

And here is a response showcasing me RPING multiple characters:

Abasi mentally rolled his golden eyes at Arya’s childish gesture as he led Tavi through the halls. He enjoyed the feeling of the princess’s hands on his forearm—she felt delicate beneath his touch, and it made his heart beat just a little bit faster.

The area they had stepped into was absolutely beautiful, gorgeous in every which way. The air was sweet and warm, like a mother’s caress.

“Great mother Hathor,” Tavi murmured, her head bowing in reverence to the goddess. “What a beauty and blessing you are,” she murmured to herself, slowly letting go of Abasi’s forearm.

“Princess!” A priest’s voice cut through. “What a pleasure to see you here,” he said warmly. “I presume you’ve come to make an offering?”

Tavi smiled and nodded, gently telling Abasi that his guard could lower. “I have. What a magnificent job you and the priests and priestesses have done.”

The priest beamed and quickly nodded for one of the lower ranking priestesses to fetch a bowl full of offerings they’d prepared for the princess. “It means the world t hear it from you,” he said. “We’ve gone all out this time for her festival.”

“It shows,” Tavi hummed, silently thanking the lower ranking priestess who handed her a bowl full of spices, jewelry, flowers and sweet smelling oils. Gently, Tavi came to the edge of the pool, kneeling down and offering silent prayers to Hathor, a blessed mother, before placing the bowl gingerly on the water.

It rippled as it flowed on the surface, almost resting perfectly in the middle amongst the sparse lily pads and lotus flowers.

On her way back up, Abasi offered the princess his hand, and she took it.

The priest once again beamed. “The goddess is most pleased with your presence,” he noted, barely able to contain his joy. “Would your companions like to make offerings as well?”

[sooibian]

So Let's Runaway - Prologue

photocreds @tuanzie​

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre / Themes: Fluff, mild angst, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo!

Warnings: Themes of grief / loss, heartache, toxic relationships, strong language, i guess..

Description: An unlikely group of three comes together for the journey of a lifetime.

A/N: This fic is part of @supermwritersnet​ “Around the world in 31 days event”. Inspired by the Hindi movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Uploading prematurely so as to stop obsessing over the prologue and get cracking on the travelogue which requires a tonne of research. Let me know if you’d like a tag on the upcoming chapter(s) due for upload on 19th July 2021.

Word Count: 3k *unedited*

____________________________

Doh Kyungsoo had dragged his feet up the endless flight of stairs seeking solitude...not drama.

A stranger, just one misstep away from a fatal fall, was the last thing he’d expected to find on the rooftop of Seoul’s Park Hyatt at three in the morning. He slipped the rooftop access key card (that he’d borrowed from the security guard in exchange for a 50,000 won bill) in the back pocket of his trousers while simultaneously dwelling on the depths of the rot of corruption. He had half a mind to turn away and forget that he’d just seen someone contemplating their existence on the ledge of a highrise but there was something about you that rooted him to the spot. Dressed in fine evening wear, you’d stretched your arms out like wings as you looked up at the vast expanse of midnight blue, the wind kissing your wild, waist length hair. From his standpoint, you looked oddly at peace.

Kyungsoo had never been an idealist or a victim of the white knight syndrome. He wasn’t one to delve into the ethical and philosophical conundrums for most things in life because to him it was all just a waste of time. Seeing you on the parapet filled him with neither sympathy nor worry. It was your life after all and with it you could do whatever you deemed fit as long as you weren’t inconveniencing others. Scratch that.

As long as you weren’t inconveniencing him.

But right now, unbeknownst to you, you were inconveniencing Seoul’s hottest financial broker, Doh Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t invisible to the hotel’s security cameras and being labelled suspect in an abetment to suicide investigation wasn't exactly what he was looking for after the day he’d had. Albeit inebriated and heavy-eyed, he could effectively calculate the logistics involved in pulling you off the ledge with the cacophony of the omnipresent Seoul traffic drowning out the sound of his footsteps.

Bracing himself for superficial bruises from the impact of falling to the right side of the precipice with the weight of an adult human pressing down on his 173 cm high frame, he took off his custom tailored blazer (that had been flown in from Vietnam especially for that evening) and folded it in half, making sure that the lapels touched. Some habits are hard to shake. He put the blazer on the ground as a makeshift floorcloth for the rest of his belongings. With his back facing you, he allowed himself a moment's peace as he loosened his tie, languidly rolled the sleeves of his pristine white dress shirt up to his elbows, freed himself off the Rolex Cellini on his left wrist, his Bottega Veneta fine leather wallet, and the cursed Tiffany Blue Box that he simply couldn’t bear to look at anymore and neatly placed them all on the blazer.

Letting out a deep exhale, he muttered curses under his breath before turning to your silhouette only to find it...gone.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and then immediately grew into large circles as he grappled with the shocking turn of events. An inexplicable heaviness bloomed in his chest and he felt sick to the stomach which, in a state of denial, he chalked up to the dubious mixture of spirits he’d downed not too long ago.

Before he could find his bearings and figure out what to do next, a light tap on his shoulder made him jump. His jaw went slack and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest to find you casually smiling at him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb onto the very same ledge and scream into the void but he simply stood there, mouth agape, wanting to say a million things but he could hardly muster a peep.

Reading the confusion painted across his sharp, well defined features, you uttered an unsure, “Hi?”

“I thought you’d jumped,” he whispered, head tilted to the side, his compelling, bloodshot eyes locked with yours.

“Says someone who’s unusually jumpy,” you jested, but your expression immediately turned solemn when you caught the tremble in his right hand. “Are you on something?”

There came about a sudden shift in his aura. Hands on hips, he deadpanned, “Why? Are you with the cops?”

“No, don’t worry,” you let out a soft chuckle and he started scrambling for his things, “How long have you been standing here?”

Hastily stuffing everything into the pocket of his well fitted trousers, he muttered something along the lines of ‘Chaos. Just chaos everywhere!’

Leaning into his frame, you quipped, “What’s that?”

Alarmed and goggle-eyed, he snapped, “Nevermind,” and turned towards the exit.

“Hey! You seem to have forgotten something!” You called out after him upon finding his blazer on the ground, the silken sheen of it reflecting a myriad of citylights.

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to jump!” You yodelled childishly but the man was long gone.

.

.

.

Seven Hours Earlier

“Natasha -” Kyungsoo huffed.

The feather light Tiffany 1873 Blue Box in his left hand had suddenly started to feel like a giant boulder weighing down on his entire being. The sparkle of the uncut diamond reflected in his misty eyes as her uncharacteristically stoic silence left him struggling for words. He searched Natasha’s face for a hint of mischief...he so desperately wished for her to crack a sly smile and pull him in for a kiss and whisper ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’ against his lips like they do in the movies, that he’d almost started to imagine it. It had to have been some sort of an ugly prank.

What reason does she have to turn me down? he wondered.

Kyungsoo breached the uncomfortable spell of silence with a desperate plea, “Say something!” the throbbing in his head intensifying by the second.

Did these three years mean nothing to you? What did I do wrong? Do you hate the ring? Is this not the kind of proposal you wished for? Is it because I left the bathroom lights on all night? Or is it because I forgot to wish your mother on her birthday? A flurry of questions spawned in Kyungsoo’s mind only to die at the tip of his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, but I can’t do this. I just -” Natasha spoke finally. Gingerly shifting the weight of the box onto the ebony restaurant table, she slammed it shut as if the ring had been eyeing her lecherously.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze almost defiantly, she declared, “Kyungsoo, I don’t think that I could be the kind of wife that would make you happy and I don’t think you could make me happy either.”

.

.

.

Two Weeks Later

Setting your eyes on that distinct pair of Dumbo ears, you excitedly weaved through the peak hour coffee shop crowd with an Iced Americano held firmly in one hand. Slamming the beverage down on the table, you engulfed his giant frame in a back hug and squealed, “Park Chanyeol!”

His wide eyes turned into even bigger brown circles and his mouth rounded into an ‘o’ in surprise. Grinning, he got off the uncomfortably tiny coffee shop chair and wordlessly pulled you in for what was famously known in Uni as a ‘Classic Chanyeol Hug’. You didn’t know how much you missed it until you felt your worries immediately dissipate into nothingness.

He hugged you a little tighter the moment you started to pull away before taking your hands in his and stooping down to your eye level. “Shifu, my love! You’re back in Seoul?!” Chanyeol exclaimed with all the love in the world sparking in the depths of his dark eyes.

Even after all this time, it felt as if nothing had changed….you’d suddenly been whizzed into a not-so-distant ‘Gothic architecture and coffee shops’ past in which a cotton candy haired boy, dressed in a pair of freshly ironed beige chinos and a plain white tee, smiles his sweetest smile simply at the sight of you. Chanyeol always felt like home. Funnily enough, even more so at the moment.

Giving him a good natured smile, you nodded in response, albeit cringing a little on the inside. Having been President of the martial arts club back in the days, you got stuck with an ingenious moniker “Shifu” which you clearly couldn’t shake off even after half a decade since graduation. You did a double take when your gaze veered to acknowledge the person seated opposite Chanyeol who, dressed in an ivory business suit, almost blended into the background. Just the way you could spot Chanyeol’s ears from a million miles away, you could recognize those eyes anywhere and right now they were shooting daggers at you.

“OH! Hi!”

His response to your greeting was a curt nod accompanying a vague hand movement, something between a hi and a failed facepalm.

At this Chanyeol guffawed, “You two know each other?”, his keen gaze rapidly flitting between the two of you.

“Yes -”

“No -”

While gesturing you to take a seat at their table, Chanyeol slumped into his chair and pursued the conversation in a voice laced with amusement, “So which is it?”

You gave your head a little shake, signalling Chanyeol to drop the topic since his friend had made his apprehension quite evident with an unambiguous “No” when asked if he knew you. Which...wasn’t entirely untrue. Even though Chanyeol now seemed to be on the same page as you, for good measure, you deflected his question with a polite, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Absolutely not!” Chanyeol assured, deftly steering the conversation back to you, “We could actually use your advice on something but first, Shifu, look at you! How long has it been? Five years?”

“Five years!”

“Wahhh! What brings you back to Seoul?”

With a wistful smile, you answered, “Appa passed away in April...”

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry -” stuttered Chanyeol, immediately placing his hand on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. From the corner of your eye you noticed Chanyeol’s friend chewing on his bottom lip and listening to this exchange with rapt attention.

“No, no, it’s erm...we’re doing okay now, I guess-”

It had been two and a half months but every time you talked about it, a black hole burgeoned right in the middle of your chest, sucking you within itself and rendering you breathless. You still hadn’t picked up the art of condoling the “condoler”. What were you even supposed to say to the faultless “I’m sorry”? Who came up with condolence jargon, anyway?

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch - ”

“Oh, please. You know how it is after Uni, isn’t it,” you turned to Chanyeol’s friend to make him feel a little less left out, “what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he answered in a clipped tone while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Yah!” Chanyeol chastised him with a deathly glare before continuing with an impish smile, “He’s Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah! So he’s Doh Kyungsoo! I’ve heard a great deal about you!” Your enthusiasm invoked a quick cursory smile from him. Doh Kyungsoo had apparently made it his life’s mission to make this unexpected rendezvous as icky as possible, leaving you to wonder if Chanyeol had ever discussed your brief relationship with him. Ex-girlfriend meets best friend? Not an ideal scenario in any part of the world.

Chanyeol and you had gone out for a couple of weeks towards the end of freshman year until you both realized that you were much better off as friends. Despite being joined at the hip in Uni, the two of you had gone your separate ways after post-grad. While he returned to Seoul to join the family business, you’d stayed back in Milan to explore job opportunities. Messages and phone calls became few and far between and it wasn’t long before both of you had completely lost touch with each other.

And it wasn’t until you met him again that you realized how desperately you needed a friend considering everything that had been going on in your life. You selfishly wished for Kyungsoo to leave you two to catch up on all these years spent apart but clearly that was a lot to ask considering how tacitly territorial he seemed to be getting about Chanyeol.

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked in another feeble attempt to water down the rancour.

Chanyeol’s features flared into a bashful smile but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Kyungsoo held a hand up to him and insisted, “Allow me to spare you the blushes,” before starting to explain the situation in an uncharacteristically eager tone, “This idiot is getting married in three months -”

Boisterously thumping Chanyeol’s back, you showered him with congratulations which he accepted with a shy ‘thank you.’

Kyungsoo continued, “- and we have a road trip planned for next month. As per the pact -”

Head tilted to the side, you shot, “What pact?”

“Some stupid pact that I have no memory of - ”

“That you conveniently have no memory of!” interrupted a salty Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Rubbing the corner of his eye, he continued with a heavy sigh, “It was supposed to be the three of us...Chanyeol, me, and our school friend Yixing.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So Yixing fell off a tractor and broke his back -”

“Oh, my gosh!” You exclaimed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t there but I’d bet my ass that’s exactly what he said at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait, wait, slow down, why- how- a tractor?”

“He quit his CEO position to become a full time….farmer,” deadpanned Kyungsoo as if it was the stupidest thing Yixing could’ve done which rubbed you up the wrong way and coloured your otherwise neutral expression.

“He basically did what Kyungsoo doesn’t have the balls to do,” quipped Chanyeol, lips stretched into a gremlin-like grin. Kyungsoo returned his jibe with a strike to his arm causing him to let out a dramatic wail thus inviting the attention of everyone around you.

But none of it deterred Kyungsoo. He continued nonchalantly as if presenting a well crafted business proposal, “Since one of us is unavailable it only makes sense to postpone the trip and that’s exactly what I’ve been asking Chanyeol to do but he just won’t listen.”

“You’re getting married in three months and you’re taking this road trip next month. Will you be left with enough time for wedding planning?” you reasoned with Chanyeol, well aware of the kind of family he belonged to and the kind of weddings these families planned.

“Mr. Park here was way too eager,” Kyungsoo butted in.

“Shut up, Kyungsoo!”

“Wahhh you must really love her ~ ,” you sang, moon-eyed.

“Clearly. He couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to finish singing the birthday song for his Eomma.”

“What?”

“Yeah! He popped the question to Aera right in the middle of it.”

“WHAT!”

“That’s a story for another day,” replied Chanyeol in an atypically calm tone, “but you’re right, Shifu, it’s not enough time and that’s why I’ve been asking this idiot to just -”

“All reservations are for three. It logistically makes more sense to reschedule,” declared Kyungsoo with a hint of finality in his tone.

It didn’t. It definitely didn’t make more sense to reschedule but as gullible as Chanyeol was, he said nothing to counter Kyungsoo’s illogical argument.

“Are you sure your friend Yixing would be okay with it, Yeollie? I’m sure you can wait for him to get better and -”

Firmly setting his jaw, Chanyeol looked you square in the eyes and stated, “It's now or never.”

Kyungsoo stole a glance at you and cleared his throat, hesitance betraying his voice when he spoke again, “Chanyeollah, you’re only getting married stop talking like you’re terminally ill.”

Chanyeol's expression softened to convey an implicit plea causing you to tweak your suggestion, “The two of you can still go? I’m sure Yixing won’t mind.”

But Chanyeol hit you with an unexpected proposal. He asked, “Do you want to come?”, in a tone that was way too serious for a road trip.

“What? No!”

“Why not? You’re here and - “

“- and Yixing’s not,” interrupted Kyungsoo.

Ignoring the sarcasm in Kyungsoo’s voice, you turned Chanyeol down gently, “No, Yeol, it’s just- it doesn’t make sense, bub.”

“Why not? We leave in a month and that’s plenty of time to get all your travel docs in order -”

“Travel docs? You mean….insurance?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! Insurance...you won’t need a visa, though.”

“Visa? Yeah, obviously I won’t be needing a visa. Why would I need a visa for a road trip?”

Chanyeol slapped his forehead and wondered aloud, “Oh, shoot! We didn’t tell her, did we?”

Kyungsoo gave his head a little shake, prompting you to ask, “Tell me what?”

“It’s a road trip through uhhh northeastern Spain -”

Chanyeol’s elaborate account of the itinerary was drowned in the whirlpool of emotions that erupted within you at the mention of the country. That part of your life you had locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of your consciousness now stared you straight in the eyes, forcing you to acknowledge a reality far too jarring for your fragile state of mind. You took a sip of your long forgotten beverage to centre yourself but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was up.

Placing a hand on your head, he asked softly, “What is it, Shifu? I understand if you can’t leave Eomma alone at this point...”

“It’s not Eomma,” you took another sip of the drink to fight the lump in your throat, “Eomma is - Eomma is in Bucheon, visiting her sister. For I don’t know how long but...long.”

“Is it work?” contributed Kyungsoo.

“I quit my job,” you answered and he looked at you as if you, a total stranger, had just asked him his body count.

Chanyeol took your hand in his and reiterated, “Come, then? You need this.”

Your gaze bounced between the two men who wore the exact same expression in expectation of two entirely different answers. And whatever you chose to say next, you were sure to disappoint one of them.

Eyes unfocussed, a deafening ringing echoing in your ears, you declared softly, “I need this,” with a million unpleasant scenarios running through your head, making you sick to the stomach.

Chanyeol pulled you in for a bear hug. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.

[genevievemd]

head scratches e and g

Confessions

Book: Open Heart: Third Year Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Word Count: 1399 Rating: G Category: fluff, hurt/comfort Trope(s): and they were in the office

Summary: MC has been feeling unsteady, and Ethan has finally noticed. 

No Warnings

A/N: this turned into a post ch 4 (bk 3) fic. Because I’m a little disappointed that PB didn’t let us talk to Ethan about the weird shit he was doing with Harper. Also look at me, once again using a one word title, because I suck at titles and its 3 am and I’m too tired to try to come up with something better. 

The sun sets outside the floor to ceiling windows, casting the diagnostics office a dance of shadows and lights. Ethan gets up from the desk, walking over to shut off the fluorescent lights leaving the room in growing darkness. He rolls his neck as he returns to the desk, turning on the lamp on the wooden surface. 

He’s felt a migraine forming all afternoon, since Leland’s bombshell that Ethan’s rival would now be joining his team. The sense that all control is steadily slipping through his fingers, growing by the day, by the hour it seems. 

What was promised to be a democracy was now nothing but a dictatorship disguised in new equipment and pay raises. 

Ethan closes his eyes, leaning back in the chair, desperately trying to cling onto the thoughts of the one good and stable thing he has left. 

Genevieve. 

“How are you feeling?” 

A soft voice breaks through the silence, Ethan opening his eyes to see the very thing he was thinking of standing in the doorway. A pleasant warmth runs through him, he’s not a man that believes in fate, but there is something utterly divine in the way she appears at the very moment he needs her. 

Genevieve walks to the desk, every step that brings her closer settling the anxiety and rage boiling inside him. She smiles sweetly at him, perching herself on his desk.

“Like I’m slowly losing control.” Ethan sits up, a hand coming to rest on her knee, thumb tracing circles on her skin. “It’s bad enough we have to deal with Bloom, but now I have to contend with Tobias as his lapdog, as well.” 

“You have me, though,” Her green eyes fill with warmth as she leans forward, holding his cheek delicately in her hand. “And I’ll always be on your side.” 

“I know. I’m incredibly thankful for that, believe me.” 

They share a smile, that four letter word swirling around his head for the umpteenth time as they get lost in each other. Gen breaks the spell, hopping off the desk and settling in his lap. His arms come around her without a second thought, pulling her impossibly closer. 

“How can I help?” Her words are nothing more than a whisper as her fingers trace his jawline. 

“There’s nothing you can do, unfortunately.” 

“I can at least try and alleviate some stress. It’s what girlfriends are for, after all.” 

The word girlfriend sparks something inside him, setting his heart into a rapid beat. They haven’t discussed terms, which is mostly his fault. In the moments when he has Gen alone, he spends the time doing everything but talking. The need to make up for the months he had spent pushing her away taking precedence over defining what they are to each other. But he knows they need to have that talk soon, he can see her growing impatient and hesitant with each passing day. 

Gen takes off his glasses, tossing them onto the desk. She threads her fingers in his hair, scratching lightly as she goes. He closes his eyes again, forehead coming to rest on her shoulder as her fingers continue to weave through his hair.  

“I meant what I said at lunch, G. Just having you in the room makes me feel more at peace.” 

“Should I stop then?” 

“Absolutely not.” He kisses the side of her neck, nuzzling sweetly. “I will take any and all forms of affection from you.” 

“Quite the difference from last year, Doctor ‘We Need a Reset’.” 

“We all have a lapse in judgment from time to time.” 

“Mhm.” He can feel her giggle, his arms tightening around her. 

They settle into an easy quiet, drawing comfort from a shared space. 

As much as he wants to get lost in her touch, he can’t help but fall back to the thoughts of Gen’s newfound uncertainty. Ethan’s half sure it has something to do with him, but he hopes more than anything that it’s not. Praying instead that it all falls to the new easy comradery of the team and the ever growing changes their employer makes. 

He wants nothing more than for Genevieve to confide in him, lean on him in the same way he leans on her. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you lately?” 

“It’s not important anymore.” 

“I beg to differ, Gen.” He presses a kiss to her shoulder before lifting his head to look at her. “You’ve been tossing and turning every night for a week. Something is wrong.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment or make you feel more stressed.” 

“So it’s me?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You didn’t have to.” His brows furrow at her lack of honesty, she’s never been this closed off before. Its unnerving and so unlike her. Fear settles deep in his bones as their eyes meet, the need to find a solution growing with every second that passes. “I can’t fix it if you aren’t forthcoming.” 

“It’s already fixed, kind of.” She sighs, adverting her eyes from him again. “Harper more or less set things straight.” 

“Harper?” Ethan tilts his head, face scrunched in confusion. 

“I was... feeling unsteady, about my place on the team and with you.” 

“With me? The team I can understand, but I thought things were fine between us.” 

Her face drops, taking a breath. “You really have no idea?” 

Gen gets up from his lap, moving back to her previous spot on the desk. The distance she places between them is small, but enough to make his heart ache fiercely. 

“Let’s put it this way, if my ex joined the team and I spent more time reminiscing about our history - weddings and flamenco lessons and dates at some intimate bistro named after a freaking Disney character - and you had to sit here, constantly interrupted, looked over and forced to listen to every second of it, how would you feel?”

“I was doing that to you.” The pain he feels is instant, regret following quickly after. “I didn’t realize.” 

“Which, if I’m being honest, Ethan, makes it hurt ten times more. Because that says that you didn’t think of me or my feelings at all.” 

He wants to jump up and dispute her claims. She’s the only thing he thinks of on most days and it kills him that he’s somehow made her feel the opposite.

“I don’t care that you’re friends with your ex, Harper is wonderful. But when you sit here and talk about dates you went on and veer off topic to bring up some inside joke, it makes me feel like you don’t respect me or our relationship. Like this is a casual fling you could quickly let go off and not a committed relationship. Like I’m an afterthought and that isn’t fair to me.” 

Ethan stands from his chair, unable to cope with the distance between them any longer. He steps in front of her, holding her face in his hands. “This isn’t causal, Gen. Far from it. And you’re not an afterthought, you never have been.” 

“Yeah, well actions speak louder than words and half of your actions lately say otherwise.”

“You’re right. I was being inconsiderate and tactless” He can see by the way she pulls away that his words aren’t enough. If he’s going to really set things back into place, Gen is going to need a real apology. 

Ethan lets out a breath, holding her gaze for a long moment. “It was wrong of me to do that to you, even worse that I did it without realizing. Your thoughts and feelings are important to me, they take precedence. I’m sorry, Genevieve. Truly. It won’t happen again.” 

“Thank you.” She reaches for his hand, interlacing their fingers. 

“Not that there’ll be a next time, but should I do something this imbecilic again, feel free to call me out on it sooner rather than later.”

“Trust me, I will.” 

Her smile returns, brighter than it was when she’d walked in ten minutes ago. Ethan leans forward, pressing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. He gets bolder when she sighs, as she opens up to him and threads her fingers through his hair. 

“This is teetering towards a pg-13 rating.” Gen mutters against his lips, their foreheads pressed together as they catch their breaths. “Take me home.” 

“Whatever you want, Rookie.”

a/n: it took me all week to get this to a point where I liked it enough to post it. But we did it and I like it enough. 

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